


And If One Day You Went Away

by autumnapplause



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: (not really) character death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-07 04:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnapplause/pseuds/autumnapplause
Summary: Simon and Baz sorted out their relationship before eighth year ever started. They're happy, they're together, and everyone knows it. But then Baz dies in a dragon attack on Watford, and Simon struggles not to lose himself after losing the person he loved the most.But what if Baz didn't really die?And what if there's something more going on here?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd write a fanfic myself, but this idea had been rolling around in my head for so long that I just had to get it out. This endeavor has been about a year in the making (mainly because I'm a slow writer), and since this is the first fanfic I've ever done I'd love to hear any commentary or feedback. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> This was somewhat inspired by Promise by EllsKay. If you end up liking this go check out their work!
> 
> Title from Flowers by Bastille ft. Rationale and James Arthur.

SIMON

I wake up slowly, sunlight streaming behind my closed eyelids. I’m warm, and comfortable, and I don’t want to wake up. But then I remember the person lying next to me and I can’t get my eyes open fast enough.

Baz’s face is barely inches away from my own. With each breath, his nose slightly brushes against mine. He looks so peaceful like this, his features relaxed; I tell him that when he frowns it ages him, but he just brushes it off. He hasn’t been frowning as much recently anyway. Not since we started dating a few months ago.

It’s been so good, like nothing I ever expected and yet everything I ever hoped for. Baz loves me, and is soft with me, and says he’ll never hurt me. I like this so much better than fighting. And so does he.

As if he can sense my sappy thoughts, Baz starts to stir beside me. His eyelids flutter a few times before he focuses on me, and his face splits into a big grin. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it.

“Good morning, love,” he says.

“Mm,” I hum, wrapping my arms around him, wasting no time in pushing my mouth against his.

The kissing has been good too. So good. Every time I lean forward he just shuts up and melts into me. I’d like to think that gives me an advantage over him but I’m just as bad.

Right now, Baz’s lips are killing all my thoughts. His are cool and mine are warm – it’s perfect. He balances me out in a way I never knew I needed.

Baz rolls over until he’s on top of me. My fingers find their way into his hair, like they always do. He makes small noises against my mouth as I sink into the pillows. I want to lose myself here. I never want to be anywhere other than under Baz’s hands.

Baz, apparently, has no problem going back to reality, as a moment later he pulls away from me.

“We have class, Simon.”

I groan. “Not important.”

“What about breakfast?”

That gets my attention, and he knows it, the prat. He chuckles as I lift myself onto my elbows.

“Alright, fine,” I grumble. “But you owe me later.”

“Oh? And what do I owe you?”

He’s still as cocky as ever. Sometimes I’d like to wipe the smirk off his face. I decide I will.

I lean up right into his space, my lips so close they’re almost ghosting over his. I linger for a moment, letting him stew in anticipation.

“I bet you’d like to find out,” I whisper.

And then I pull back completely, getting out of Baz’s bed and heading towards the bathroom.

I think I hear him muttering something about being a tease as I close the door. Victory for me, then.

BAZ

We walk into the dining hall hand in hand, as we’ve grown accustomed to doing every morning. No one even spares us a second glance anymore. The first time it happened we were the talk of the school, but it’s been since accepted as a normality. I think in some way everyone had been expecting it, even if we never did.

Simon and I make our way over to our usual table, where Penelope and Agatha are already waiting with a plate of scones. Simon grabs one and shoves it into his mouth before he’s even fully sat down. I roll my eyes at him and wipe away the crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth with my thumb.

“So how are you feeling, Basil?” Penelope asks without even a proper ‘good morning.’ “Any side effects?”

I shake my head. “None, so far as I can tell. Left me a little burnt out, though.”

She raises an eyebrow at me as if she can’t believe it, and I honestly don’t blame her. I never would have thought it possible to share magic, and yet when that dragon had attacked Watford yesterday Simon pushed his power into me and helped me fend it off. It was a shock, at first, but not an unpleasant one. Simon’s magic felt like him: warm, electric, breathtaking. It made me feel connected to him in a way that was incredibly intimate.

He studies me now with uncertain eyes. “Are you sure, Baz? Maybe you should go to the nurse.”

I’m touched by his concern. “You didn’t hurt me, Snow. I probably would have been worse off if you hadn’t done it.”

“Do you guys realize what this means?” Penelope presses on. “This is a huge breakthrough. No one has ever experimented with sharing magic before. Imagine the possibilities.”

I grit my teeth. “Yes, Bunce, but I wouldn’t go around sharing that information with the world.”

“Baz is right,” Agatha points out. I’m shocked that she’s agreeing with me, and it must show because she scoffs. “Oh, come on. Just think about it. You _know_ people would try to exploit that in any way they could.”

Simon seems to realize the truth in her words, and deflates in his chair a bit. I understand why he’s so glum; it’s just another way for people to use us. It was already bad enough when we started dating, the Old Families constantly trying to persuade me to use my relationship to hurt Simon. And I know the Mage approached him more than once about me. If it got out that we could share magic with each other, that sort of thing would only get worse.

I squeeze Simon’s hand. “We don’t have to worry about it for now. I’m sure people are more concerned with the Visitings anyway.”

The Visitings had just started a week ago and every day was filled with spirits popping up all over the place, confessing their last wishes or regrets. Secretly, I’m hoping that I’ll get a Visit from my mother, but so far she has yet to appear.

“That’s right,” Penelope says. “Just before you guys showed up, someone’s dead Uncle came and left them his fortune. Lucky bastard.”

“I just think it’s creepy,” Agatha shivers.

“Come now, Wellbelove. The dead aren’t all that bad.” I send a wicked grin in her direction.

Simon frowns. I know he hates it when I refer to myself as dead, but I can’t bring myself to share his optimism.

He doesn’t say anything – just silently reaches up to press his fingers against my wrist, where he can feel my heartbeat. His way of reminding me that I’m alive.

If I’m alive, it’s because he makes me feel that way.

SIMON

I’m so glad I share my first few classes with Baz, cause then I don’t have to leave him after breakfast. It makes me feel like I’m in a warm bubble all morning. Doesn’t help for my concentration in class, though.

Even before, I was never able to concentrate in class with him. I would just stare at the back of his head, thinking about all the ways he could be plotting against me. Now I sit beside him, and he rubs small circles onto the back of my hand. It’s distracting in a whole different kind of way.

Penny, who sits behind us and can see everything, calls us sickening. I don’t think she really means it.

Baz and I have to part ways after Elocution. I won’t see him again until his football practice, where I sit and watch him from the stands while Penny tries to get me to do homework (a lost cause). It’s my least favorite part of the day.

Baz squeezes my hand before starting to step in the other direction. “I’ll see you later.”

I catch his fingers before he can leave. “Don’t forget that you owe me,” I smirk. It’s a bad habit I picked up from him.

He comes back towards me until he’s close enough to whisper in my ear. “I won’t forget,” he breathes. “It’s a promise, Simon.”

And then he presses a soft kiss against my cheek, smiling as he walks away down the hall.

I know I must look stupid, standing there staring after him like a lovestruck idiot, but I can’t bring myself to care. Crowley, I’m so lucky I get to have this.

BAZ

I walk to the pitch a bit faster than usual today, for reasons that definitely don’t have to do with Simon. It’s not that I’m particularly eager to have his gaze back on me, or anything.

I slow when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, however. I squint just to make sure, but that ridiculous green cape is unmistakable. The Mage is headed in the direction the dragon appeared from yesterday.

Alarm bells start to go off in my head. What if he saw Simon share his magic with me? Why else would he go back there? What could he be looking for?

I decide to follow him just to be safe. Simon wouldn’t like it, but it’s worth knowing if the Mage has something he could use against us.

He stops at the clearing the dragon landed in, and then pulls out his wand. He’s muttering lowly under his breath, but I’m far enough away that I can’t make out the words. Whatever this is, it isn’t good. It needs to be stopped.

I step out from my hiding place and raise my voice. “What are you doing?” I ask, tone accusing.

He turns around, not surprised to see me. “Ah, Mr. Pitch. A pity. It’s unfortunate that you’re here.”

I draw my wand and point it at his chest. “Why? Did I mess up your evil plans?”

“On the contrary,” he laughs. “This may actually make things easier for me.”

Before I can react, he brings his own wand forward. “**_Stand your ground_**!” And then, for good measure, “**_Cat got your tongue_**!”

The Mage starts stalking towards me but I’m frozen, unable to defend myself. Through my panic I vaguely register the distant roar of a dragon.

“You’ve been a continuous nuisance to me over the years, Mr. Pitch.” He stops right in front of me and presses his wand to the center of my forehead.

“But perhaps you can be useful to me yet.”

I don’t even have time to think of what that could mean before he says –

“**_Lights out_**.”

– and then everything goes dark.

SIMON

I’m squirming in my chair, impatient to be dismissed when Ms. Possibelf finally tells us we can go. I pull on Penny’s arm, all but dragging her outside while she laughs at me. “Okay, okay, Simon, we can go watch your boyfriend kick a football around while we pretend to get work done.”

I grin and roll my eyes at her but come to an abrupt stop when I notice all the people rushing past us. The sky is much darker than it should be at this time of day, and I don’t register why until Penny tugs on my sleeve and says, “Simon, look!”

A huge pair of red wings breaks through the smog, because that’s what it is – smoke and ash choking the air. The dragon from yesterday has come back. And underneath it, the pitch is completely engulfed in flames.

_Baz._

I take off running, ignoring Penny shouting my name. I can’t stop, not until I see Baz, not until I know he’s okay.

He has to be okay.

The first thing I see when I get to the pitch is the Mage, shouting curse after curse at the dragon. But I completely forget about him when my eyes fall on the pitch. There’s no inch of it that isn’t burning.

_Oh god, what if – _

“Simon!” The Mage shouts. “Come here, we need you!”

I’m frozen where I stand. Panic starts to rise in me the longer I don’t see a familiar head of black hair. I can’t help but think –

Suddenly the Mage is right next to me. I can feel his hand as he puts it on my shoulder, and then something _pulls_.

I jump away from him as if I’ve been shocked. “Sir, what’s going on?” My voice is shaking; I’m sure he can hear it.

He studies me for a moment before he turns to face the dragon again. “Simon, I need you to try to focus your magic. Here, use the spell **_The harder they fall_**.”

He places his own wand into my hands.

I look at it in bewilderment. “I don’t think –”

“Just do it!” he snaps.

I flinch but do as he says. I try to channel my energy into casting the spell, but all I can think is that I want the dragon to be gone so I can find Baz.

“**_The harder they fall_**,” I say.

The dragon immediately convulses and stops flying, dropping out of the sky as if in slow motion. It lands on the pitch with a resounding _thud_, so forceful that it shakes the ground. It’s smothered most of the fire, but the Mage casts **_Make a wish_** until it’s completely gone.

The smoke clears. The dragon’s head is bent at an unnatural angle. I feel sick to my stomach.

And I still don’t see Baz anywhere.

_Maybe he wasn’t here. Maybe he’s okay._

I run up to the Mage. “Sir, have you seen Baz? Do you know if he was here?” Even I can hear how desperate I sound.

The Mage gives me a look I can’t decipher. “The dragon was here for him, Simon.”

I stop breathing.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but… your roommate was caught in the fire.”

_No._

“I wasn’t able to get here soon enough. But I did come across this.”

The Mage takes his own wand from my hands and replaces it with a different one.

Baz’s.

A strangled noise falls from my lips. I don’t understand. He can’t – he can’t be –

“I’m sorry. It’s regretful, truly.”

_Gone_. Baz is gone.

I’m not sure what happens next. I’m running, I think, as if the Mage’s words won’t be true if I can get far enough away from them. My magic is pouring out of me, turning the world into a haze of red. It makes it almost impossible to see – that, and the tears streaming down my face, blurring my vision.

Tree branches cut my skin and let me know I’m hurtling through the Wavering Woods. I can’t bring myself to care. It doesn’t hurt, not as much as the claws in my chest, tearing out my heart.

My heart, which belongs to Baz.

Baz, who is dead.

_Baz is dead._

I fall to my knees, skidding to a stop. It’s too much. I think I’m screaming, but I can’t hear it. I can’t hear anything as the world explodes around me.

PENNY

Simon is bolting off by the time I reach the pitch, out of breath. Both the fire and the dragon have been dealt with, but that’s not important right now. I need to know where Simon’s going, if he’s found Baz.

The Mage seems like he knows what’s going on, so I start with him. “Where’s Simon gone off to? What’s happened?”

He turns toward me distractedly, as if he didn’t notice I was standing there. “Ah, Penelope. It’s a rather unfortunate thing.”

I can already feel my heart start to sink.

He tells me the same thing I assume he told Simon; that the fire was too strong, that Baz didn’t make it. I can barely register what he’s saying. None of this seems real.

In the distance, I see an intense flash of light. _Simon._

For the second time today, the earth trembles.


	2. Chapter 2

SIMON

_Simon._

_Yes?_

_Why are you making that face? I thought you were happy._

_It’s _because_ I’m happy, you idiot._

_Then please, love, don’t cry._

_I can’t help it. I never thought I’d be able to do this._

_It’s beautiful._

_You’re the one who cast it._

_But it’s your magic, Simon._

_Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?_

_Better. I’ve never felt more alive._

_Oh, come off it, Baz._

_I’m serious. You’re wonderful, Simon Snow. You’re starlight._

_So are you._

_Then we match._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I wake reaching for Baz.

I’m so disoriented it takes me a moment to notice where I am. Crisp white sheets. Harsh, blinding light. I’m on a bed in the Watford infirmary.

Penny sits at my side, gazing at me with tired, red-rimmed eyes. My own eyes feel sticky, like they do after I’ve been crying. I can’t think of why they’re like that, or why I’m here.

Then I remember.

The breath is knocked out of me like I’ve been punched in the gut, and I let out a small whine. Instantly Penny is gathering me up in her arms, stroking my hair. She seems in shock, like she doesn’t know what to say.

PENNY

What do you say to someone who’s just lost everything?

SIMON

It takes her a few tries before she finally gets something out. “I’m sorry, Simon. I’m so sorry. I know what he meant to you.”

Something in me breaks at that. At hearing Baz referred to in the past tense. I push my face into her shoulder and let out broken, ugly sobs.

I wish I was back in that dream. Back in that moment last night, when we were playing around with our new shared connection and Baz spelled us among the stars. It was like we were the only people in the entire universe. We were invincible.

And now he’s gone.

_He’s gone._

The words play over and over in a loop, my brain struggling to understand.

At some point I must start to hyperventilate, because my breathing is coming out in ragged gasps and I’m choking on air. Penny pulls back and grips my arms, but I can’t feel it. She’s saying something to me, but I can’t hear it. All I can focus on is the massive, gaping hole in my chest.

PENNY

Simon is falling apart and I don’t know what to do. He’s shaking uncontrollably, drowning in his panic. I have to snap him out of this somehow.

I place both hands gently on the sides of his face and turn him towards me. “Simon, breathe. _Breathe._”

It takes a while, but eventually I manage to grab his attention again. He’s looking at me with big, broken eyes, tears running down his cheeks. I wish Baz were here; he’s always able to calm Simon down. But that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Thankfully, someone else shows up. Agatha pushes through the door, looking no better than either of us. I suppose the news must have worked its way around the whole school by now.

She doesn’t have to say anything, just walks over and sits next to Simon on the bed, wrapping her arms around him. After a second, I do the same.

Maybe this is all we can do for him. Hold him through the pain.

AGATHA

I lock eyes with Penny over Simon’s shoulder and see devastation etched into her features. We may not have loved Baz like Simon did, but he was still our friend. It still hurts.

And now we have our other friend to look after. Penny and I seem to come to a silent, grim understanding in that moment: we have a long road ahead of us.

SIMON

I fall in and out of fitful dreams.

Penny and Agatha left me in the infirmary a while ago – I can’t go back to my room. _Our_ room. And there’s nothing to do here but sleep. Nothing to do but let my consciousness fade away from this harsh reality and into softer memories. I see flashes of him beneath my eyelids.

Baz studying for exams, his hair up.

Baz eating behind his hand, and grinning when I pull it away.

Baz beneath me as I kiss him, grey eyes dazed and wanting, pants falling from his lips.

Eventually I slip into a darker place, far from the pain.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_The room is stifling, and I open the window to let a little breeze in. I sigh as a rush of cool air moves over me. Summer is fast approaching, and bringing the hotter temperatures with it._

_“How many times have we talked about this, Simon?” Baz says from his bed._

_I glance over at him. “Oh, come on. Even you can’t be cold in this weather.”_

_“So what if I am?” he pouts, raising an eyebrow. He’s so dramatic. I decide to tease him a little bit._

_“I’m sure you can think of some other way to warm up,” I say, as innocently as possible._

_He shoots me a wicked grin and suddenly I don’t care about teasing him anymore. I go over and sit right in his lap, enjoying the feel of his arms folding around me._

_“That didn’t take very long,” he murmurs, eyes dancing with mischief. _

_“Shut up.” I latch my mouth onto his neck, and he does._

_The cold of his skin feels good against my sweltering lips. “You might not think it’s hot, but I need the window open. Especially if we’re going to do this.”_

_Baz lets out a breathy laugh. “I’ll bet summer’s a nightmare for a living furnace.”_

_I pull back for a second. “Yeah, it is. The care homes never have air conditioning.”_

_His expression becomes a bit sad and he puts a hand on the side of my face. “Well, you won’t have to deal with that this summer. My house has all the air conditioning you could want, even if it is a bit ancient.”_

_“What?” My eyes widen. “Your house?”_

_“Obviously.” Baz looks at me with faint surprise. “Did you really think I’d ever let you suffer through another one of those homes, now that you have me?”_

_“But your family… they hate me.”_

_“They’ll get over it.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “And if they don’t it doesn’t matter. They can’t decide who I spend my time with.”_

_I can feel my eyes start to well up with tears. I’ve been fiercely dreading the end of term because I didn’t want to be separated from Baz, but now… He’s letting me into his home. Into his life. I won’t be alone again this summer._

_I bump my forehead into his. “I’m so glad I don’t have to leave you.”_

_“Nothing could ever make me leave you, Simon,” he whispers against me. “You’ll always have a place to go as long as you’ll have me.”_

_“Forever, then,” I say, and crush my lips to his._

BAZ

I can almost still feel Simon’s mouth on mine when a loud noise jolts me back to consciousness. It takes me a second to get my bearings, as I’m surrounded by darkness, but I can tell with my enhanced vision that I’m in an empty room. My hands and feet are bound uncomfortably to the chair I’m sitting in.

A promise never to leave. I should have known better; look where I am now.

Wherever that is.

All I can assume is that the Mage put me here, and that he’s the one whose footsteps are coming towards me from another room.

I brace myself as the door opens and a dim light assaults my eyes. As predicted, the Mage steps forward, giving me a once-over before kneeling in front of my chair.

“Awake, are we? I was hoping you’d be out for a while yet.”

I glare down at him. “What happened with the dragon?” I ask. It’s all starting to come back, and I’m kicking myself for confronting the Mage out of nowhere like that.

He looks at me for a second and then shrugs. “Simon killed it. I was testing a theory.”

Something in me snaps at the mention of his name and I fight against my restraints without success.

“And what did you learn?” I grit out.

“Ah-ah, Mr. Pitch. I’ll be the one asking the questions here.” He stands up and starts to circle me as he talks. “I hadn’t meant for this to happen, but maybe I can get some useful information while I have you.”

“You’re even more daft than I thought if you think I’ll tell you anything.”

“You’re right. I’m sure you have no love for me.” He smirks. “But what about for Simon?”

I freeze.

“The poor lad thinks you’re dead. Wouldn’t it be worth it to ease his suffering, let him know you’re alright? I could do that for you – for the right price, of course.”

_Dead?_

My mind is racing a mile a minute. That gives me plenty of information of my own. The Mage can get rid of me at any time, and no one will come looking for me. I’m not stupid enough to believe that he would really tell Simon that I’m alive out there somewhere and risk him coming to rescue me. Besides, I would never willingly give the Mage anything that would just hurt Simon anyway.

After the silence stretches on for a while, he turns away from me and heads toward the door. “Fine. I’ll give you some time to think it over. But just remember that I’m out there with him while you’re stuck in here.”

With that the Mage closes the door, plunging me back into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

SIMON

Penny and Agatha are worried about me.

I can see it in their weary expressions, can feel it in the stares they give me when they think I’m not looking. Part of me feels bad about it, but the rest of me just feels numb.

The days have gone by in a haze. I hardly know anything that goes on around me anymore. Can’t let myself think because the minute I do –

Well.

There’s no need to repeat those first days. Of going back to an empty room. Of seeing his bed as we left it, blankets a mess from that last morning. Of knowing he would never be in it again.

I’d buried myself in that bed and cried until there was nothing left. Not even the scent of cedar and bergamot – it faded the longer I slept there, trying to pretend that he was still there beside me.

But he never was, and every day I’d wake up feeling hollow.

At least I see him when I sleep. It’s my only reprieve from the pain.

“Simon?”

I blink and realize that Penny has been trying to get my attention. She pushes a scone across the dining table and into my line of vision. “How about you try to do one today?”

The thought makes my stomach turn, but I break off a small piece just for Penny. She and Agatha looked particularly pitying earlier when I came down to breakfast wearing Baz’s football jersey. I’ve been getting stares from people all morning, but I don’t mind. I like wearing his name. And I like reminding them that he existed.

I pop the small bit of scone in my mouth. It tastes like ash.

Now it’s Agatha’s turn to try for my attention. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

I give her a slow nod. I did, and it was nice. I dreamt of this summer. Baz and his home, at first intimidating but eventually inviting. We had long evenings spent in the library while he played his violin. Afternoons in the garden messing about with Mordelia. Going into town with his stepmother Daphne. Even his father got used to my presence after a while; he may have even warmed up to me, if his lack of criticism was any indication.

It only makes sense that my dreams turned towards them, given that…

“I hear Baz’s family is coming to pick up his things today,” Agatha says softly, as if afraid she’ll spook me.

I nod again, more certain this time. They’re coming to take everything of Baz remaining in the room, everything I have left of him. God, how am I supposed to face them? I’m the Chosen One, and I couldn’t even keep him safe. I couldn’t –

I throw up a mental wall right there, shutting down my thoughts. It only takes a little for me to lose my grip, and I have to keep it together.

Penny seems to sense my discomfort. “Why don’t we have a night, just the three of us?” she asks. “We can watch movies on my laptop and the Mage will never have to know.”

I try to make my mouth form a small smile but know from their faces that I fail miserably. “Thanks, Pen. But I should be there.”

She looks resigned, but reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. I love her for even bothering to try with me – or whatever’s left of me, anyway.

PENNY

I feel completely helpless. I suppose I should count this as progress, given that this is the most responsive Simon has been since everything happened. Most days, it’s like he’s barely there at all; his empty eyes stare unseeingly into nothing.

I’m hoping that seeing Baz’s family will do something for him. Frankly, it’s a surprise that they’re even coming to Watford. It’s not as if the Mage has done anything in the way of showing remorse for Baz’s death on his school grounds. People are starting to talk, wondering if the dragon really had anything to do with it, if it’s not all just a giant conspiracy to kickstart the war between the Mage’s men and the Old Families. At this rate, it’s beginning to look like things might actually turn that way.

I desperately hope they won’t, because Simon’s in no condition to fight. I’m not sure which side he’d be fighting, anyway.

It doesn’t matter. Whichever side Simon decides on, that’s where I’ll be.

BAZ

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here.

The Mage stops by every few days to leave me blood, otherwise I’d be dead by now. Bastard knew I was a vampire all along, though I doubt it was because of Simon pestering him about it fifth year; he’s probably at least suspected since my mother’s death.

The problem is the lack of any real food. Though a vampire’s diet isn’t exactly common knowledge, I think the Mage knows I need more than blood and is just tormenting me by starving me half to death.

And just when I’d finally had a good system worked out. Or, I suppose, since Simon forced me to work it out. After we’d arrived at my family home for the summer, he was disgusted to find out that I’d been subsisting on rats from the catacombs during school and vowed to get me to eat better. Despite all my initial resistance, by the end of the summer we finally found the perfect balance of being fed with blood and food through Simon’s sheer determination. He may be thick, but I’ll admit he knows better than me sometimes.

Wow. I must really be losing it.

Thinking of those months this summer with Simon is the primary thing keeping me sane these days. There was so much time for us to just_ be_. Time for lazy mornings and afternoons, time spent alone with each other and together with my family. Simon brought a life to the house that had been desperately needed by all of us. I never expected my family to take to him like they did, but by Mordelia’s birthday at the end of the summer she was practically begging him to stay.

“Will you be coming back for Christmas, Simon?” Mordelia had asked, glancing over her shoulder to where Simon was braiding her hair.

They were sprawled on the library floor amongst all the presents she had gotten that day. My father and Daphne were sitting on the couch enjoying tea by the fire, which kept the room warm at night.

Simon looked at them quickly before shifting his eyes in my direction. “I would love to, if you’d have me.”

I opened my mouth to let him know _exactly_ how welcome he was, but my father beat me to it.

“You have been a perfectly respectable houseguest, Mr. Snow. I see no problem in your returning for the winter holidays.”

Simon’s eyes were as wide as my own probably were, and he almost looked a bit teary for a moment. “Thank you,” he whispered.

I reached over and squeezed his knee. I knew how nervous he had been to win my family’s approval, especially my father’s. Simon had never expected an outright invitation from him, and to be honest neither had I. This was a huge step forward for both of them.

Mordelia grew impatient from her spot on the floor. “Have you finished yet?”

Simon put the final touches on her braid and sat back. “All done.”

Mordelia leapt up and grabbed some of her presents to play with. Simon moved his gaze back to me – or, more specifically, to my hair. He sent me a teasing grin. “How about it?”

“Yeah!” Mordelia agreed. “Do Baz next!”

I rolled my eyes when he attempted to waggle his eyebrows at me but moved over to sit in front of him anyway. “Go on. I know how much you love messing about with my hair.”

Even without turning around, I could tell his cheeks were red. He was more hesitant to be affectionate in front of my parents but I had no problem riling them up a bit.

My eyes closed instinctively the second he put his hands in my hair. I might have given him shit for it, but I enjoyed this just as much as he did.

His fingers worked through my hair with the ease of practice. “When did you get so good at this, Snow?”

“We had a bunch of free time at the care homes. A lot of the girls would ask me to try hairstyles for them.”

My stomach sank a little like it did every time he mentioned the homes. “Well, now you can do Mordelia’s hair for all the special occasions.”

His fingers clutched tightly at my hair for a moment before continuing. “And yours,” he said quietly. “I’ll mess up your hair any time you like.”

I can almost feel the ghost of his fingers in my hair now, if I drift far enough. I let the sensation fill my mind, rather than the sharpness of hunger or the rope burns on my wrists or the darkness of this nothing I’m trapped in.

Distantly, I hope that he’s not somewhere hurting.

SIMON

_“Baz?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Have you ever thought about what you would do once all of this is over?”_

_Baz stills from his place on my lap. I shouldn’t have said anything – we were so relaxed a moment ago, and I think Baz was almost asleep. But as per usual, my nonexistent brain-to-mouth filter means that I just blurt out whatever’s on my mind._

_When he answers, his voice comes out muffled from where his face is pressed against my stomach. “I’ve never been allowed the luxury of thinking of the future.”_

_“What do you mean?” I ask. At times, the fairytale ending I’d concocted for myself was the only thing that kept me going._

_Baz clutches my waist tighter. “You can’t seriously think I was ever going to fight you, Simon. I was going to let you kill me.”_

_I drop the book I was supposed to be reading for class onto the bed and grab his shoulders, pulling him up so I can look into his eyes. “I never would have done it.”_

_I can see the doubt on his face so I shake my head. “I mean it. I need you in my life, Baz. Even before, you were one of the only stable things I had.”_

_Baz lets out a huff and bumps his head against mine. “How pathetic we are.”_

_I smile. We may be pathetic but I prefer it this way._

_“So what about now?” I try again. “What do you think of life after Watford?”_

_He looks at me for a long moment. “You’re the only future I’ve ever wanted.”_

_All the breath leaves my body at once, and I’m left gripping at his arms for support._

_A life with Baz? That’s more than perfect for me._

_“You can have it,” I whisper. “It’s yours.”_

_Baz’s eyes are alight with something thunderous and before I know it his mouth is pressed hard against mine. He kisses me with all the emotion of a lifetime spent yearning for the impossible, only to suddenly have it. His hands in my hair give away his devotion. His lips trace my features like I am something to be worshiped._

_“Simon,” he breathes. “Simon.”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I wake up in the same bed without the thing that made it warm. I must have fallen asleep waiting for Baz’s family to come; I’m still holding his wand in my hands. It’s a family heirloom – they’ll want it back.

I’m struggling to come back from this dream more than the others. All I can think is that this wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to have a life together. Baz was my future.

A rap on the doorframe makes me look up from his wand. Daphne, Mordelia, and Mr. Grimm are all standing there, and I don’t know what to say. The air is heavy with a mutual recognition of hurt, of suffering. I don’t know what they’re seeing as they stare at me – a broken shell of a person, probably, someone that no longer functions. As useless as they initially thought I’d be.

But then Daphne gives me a heartbreaking look and moves forward, wrapping me tightly in a hug. She holds my head to her shoulder in a mother-like gesture.

Mordelia follows suit, climbing up on the bed and attaching herself to my side. My eyes are wide in shock. Sure, this family tolerated me, but I never thought…

Then there’s a hand on my shoulder. I look up at Mr. Grimm, whose gaze is shiny with unshed tears.

The feeling of numbness that has enveloped me for days vanishes and suddenly all the pain is rushing back in, hitting me with inescapable force. I start sobbing with the weight of those first days, overcome with the same raw sensation of loss. The Grimm family only holds me tighter, keeping me from falling apart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments! I'm glad you've been enjoying this so far and I hope you like what's to come.

SIMON

When Daphne pulls away she sees the wand that I’m still holding tightly to my chest. “Is that Baz’s?” she asks, kindly.

I can’t help it; I panic. “Please, please don’t take it away from me,” I hiccup. “It’s all I have left –”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she shushes me, “keep it. Keep all of it.” She smooths her hand over the football jersey I’m wearing. “We just came to see how you were doing.”

Not for the first time today, I’m dumfounded. “Really?”

She smiles. “Of course. You’re just as much his family as we are.”

That starts a whole new wave of fresh tears that Daphne tries to wipe from my face.

“I miss him,” I whisper. It hurts to say out loud. “Nothing’s the same without him.”

Mordelia clutches me tighter, buries her face in my shirt. “But you have to stay with us, Simon. Please don’t leave us too. You’re the only brother I have left.”

My heart breaks a little further and I gather her up in my arms. “I’ll stay, if that’s what you want.”

Daphne nods. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re always welcome in our home.”

I lock eyes with Mr. Grimm over Mordelia’s head, and he nods as well.

I’m still in disbelief that they would let me into their family like this. Me, the Mage’s heir. The worst chosen one to ever be chosen. But they care enough to check up on me, to want me in their lives. It’s the closest thing to a real family I’ve ever had.

And it’s all because of Baz.

When they leave, they don’t take a single one of Baz’s things. I’m still a bit in shock over the whole thing.

I look out my window expecting to see them drive away, but instead see someone that’s been absent for weeks. The Mage has stopped them outside of Mummer’s house, and by the look on Mr. Grimm’s face I can tell this isn’t going to end well.

I find myself flying downstairs before I even realize what I’m doing.

“I’m surprised you can even bear to be here at all, Malcolm,” the Mage is saying. “First your wife, and now your son. If it were me, I’d want to stay away from this place entirely.”

My mind goes blank in a flash of rage. “What are you doing?” I growl.

“Simon.” The Mage seems shocked to see me, although I suppose it could be because I look a bit of a mess. “It’s not every day we get visits from parents of… deceased students.”

“They’re allowed to be here just as much as anyone else,” I grit out. I can’t believe the Mage is saying all this in front of them. This goes too far, rivalry with the Old Families be damned.

He glances skeptically between me and the Grimms before turning on his heel and starting to walk away. “Come, Simon. We need to talk.”

I let him go further before turning to Baz’s family, who are standing hesitantly by their car. “You should go while you have the chance,” I say. “He can be hard to stop once he really gets started.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Grimm says sincerely. He stares at me, and for a moment he reminds me so much of Baz that it hurts. “I’m… glad to know that he was loved.”

Then he gets in the car with his family and drives away.

I wish Baz could have been here to hear this. He always struggled with what his father thought of him.

“Simon!” I hear the Mage yell behind me.

The anger from the moment before comes rushing back and I stalk over to him, magic literally fuming.

“What, you avoid me for weeks and now you want to talk? Okay, talk. What was that all about?”

The Mage narrows his eyes at me. “Watch your tone, boy. This is still the Old Families we’re dealing with.”

“They’re only here because they’ve just lost their son! Because we’ve just lost _Baz_,” I choke out. “Something you refuse to acknowledge. You’re acting like he never existed!”

“You may have let your… feelings get the better of you recently,” he says, “but this was always going to be the outcome, Simon. Or had you forgotten?”

I can feel myself starting to lose my grip, red blurring my vision.

“His family, and those like them, are against everything we stand for,” the Mage plows on. “Just wake up and see that!”

He grabs my arms, and I can feel my magic straining against me. I need to get away from here before I go off. I took out a quarter of the Wavering Wood last time – I can’t do the same to Watford.

“Those families are still just people,” I manage to get out. “And you’re wrong about them.”

I tear myself away from his grasp, and then run away to where I can’t do any harm.

PENNY

I figure I should be safe climbing the stairs of Mummer’s house in the early hours of the morning, but I tread quietly just in case.

It’s something I’ve done hundreds of times before, only this time is different. Over the past six months or so I’ve grown accustomed to knocking at their door. The first time I’d walked in on them had been awkward enough.

Not that at that point I’d had any reason to suspect anything. I had just gone over to help Simon with his homework on a normal Wednesday night only to find him pinning Baz to the wall, snogging the living daylights out of him. I’d had to clear my throat a few times just to get their attention, and when I did they’d still looked dazed and confused.

“You boys have anything to tell me?” I said.

And that wasn’t the only time either. After about five or six instances of finding Simon and Baz in varying positions I wisened up and gave them time to collect themselves before barging in. But now there’s no chance that I’ll be interrupting anything, so I push open the door without any sort of warning.

It’s a good thing I did, because Simon is sound asleep on Baz’s bed.

My heart aches for him. His own bed looks relatively untouched, like he hasn’t slept there in weeks. I doubt that he has.

I go over to Simon and sit gently beside him. I came over to ask how it went yesterday with Baz’s family, but I don’t want to wake him. He looks more peaceful now than he has in a long while.

Not for the first time, I think of how unfair the world has been to Simon. For a while, with Baz, it seemed like things were finally tipping in his favor – like he had gained a sense of stability in a world fraught with absent parental figures and impending wars. And now the world has taken the one thing he’d taken for himself.

Of course he still has me, and Agatha, but I know it isn’t the same. How could it be? Baz was Simon’s forever, and neither of us can give him that.

Sighing, I push back some of the hair from Simon’s forehead. He leans into the touch and smiles.

“_Baz_,” he murmurs.

I draw my hand back, pained, and the movement causes Simon to stir. His eyes blink open slowly, and I can see the moment his dream fades and reality sets in.

“Oh. Penny.” And then he bursts into tears.

I have no idea what to do at first, and it must show because he starts to curl in on himself. “I’m sor – I’m sorry, I –”

I grab his hands, cutting him off. “You have nothing to apologize for, Simon. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling.”

“It _hurts_,” he sobs, “it hurts. I want Baz.”

“I know,” I whisper. “And you don’t have to let him go. No one is expecting you to.”

“The Mage is,” Simon says, rubbing uselessly at his face.

“What?”

“He yelled at Baz’s family. At me. He wants me to fight them.”

His words fill me with anger. The Mage won’t even let Simon grieve before he starts in on his tirade? For pity’s sake.

I shake my head in disgust. “He’s wrong. Nothing’s been quite right about his place in all this, anyway.”

He sniffs. “What do you mean?”

“Besides his total disregard of what happened? The Mage keeps leaving Watford way more often than usual. If he’s going to outright avoid his responsibilities, he should do it less publicly.”

Simon looks a little lost, and I remember that he hasn’t exactly been with it the past few weeks. I doubt he’s noticed the change in the Mage’s schedule.

I sigh, trying to release some of my irritation. “Never mind all that. How’d it go with the Grimms? Besides the Mage being a massive prick.”

“They… they came here just for _me_.” He sounds unsure, as if he doesn’t quite believe it himself yet. “They asked me to stay with them. Said I was part of Baz’s family.”

I grip his hands tighter. “They’re right, you know.”

“I’ve never had a family before.” He starts to tear up again.

“Oh, Simon,” I say, pulling him into a hug. “They love you, and wouldn’t consider you anything less. And even if they did, I hope you know that you’re my family, too.”

“I do know that.” He gives me a watery smile. “Thanks, Pen. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You don’t have to. You’re not alone, Simon.”

BAZ

I’m barely conscious when the Mage comes slamming into the room.

He grabs my hair and yanks it back so I’m looking him right in the face. “Alright, I’ve grown impatient of this silent act. I know Simon has shared his magic with you. Talk.”

A faint sense of panic shoots through my disoriented mind, but I try not to let him see that. I laugh it off instead. “Something’s got the oh so great Mage all riled up. What happened?”

“What happened?” he snarls. “I’ll tell you what. Your insufferable family is snooping around my campus and getting Simon involved in their plans, and that means they’ve just made themselves a target. I also can’t promise what will happen to Simon now that he’s chosen to align himself with the wrong side of this war. That is, unless you _talk_.”

No amount of carefully crafted self-control could mask the sheer hatred I feel towards the Mage at this moment.

I close my eyes and try to think back to blue eyes. Bronze curls. The fact that Simon Snow is the most powerful magician alive, and nothing in this world could hurt him. He has enough power to defend himself against anything.

The problem is, I don’t know if he would defend himself against the Mage.

But as worried as I am, I can’t bring myself to give him the tool that would destroy Simon.

When the Mage realizes he’s getting nothing from me, he throws my chair to ground, screaming in rage. My head cracks against the floor and it’s all I can do not to black out on the spot.

The Mage crouches down and gets right in my face so I can see him from my sideways position on the floor. “Fine. Have it your way. I should have known you didn’t really care enough about Simon to save him.”

Then he grabs my head and slams it against the ground once more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the big one.

SIMON

Another day gone by. Another night.

I give myself a disapproving look in the mirror as I brush my teeth. I used to count every day that went by without Baz but Penny says I should focus on the present moment, what’s happening around me. I swear I try to remember but I forget sometimes.

It’s just hard to pass the days without him.

The nights are a bit easier. I dream about him and I get to be with him for as long as it lasts.

I’ve barely started dreaming tonight – barely felt the brush of his fingers along my face – when something jolts me out of my sleep. It takes me a second to recognize the chill in the air and figure out where it’s coming from.

I sit up slowly in Baz’s bed and come face to face with a wispy figure. I don’t recognize her at first, because I’ve only ever seen her in portraits at the Pitch manor, but it’s her. Natasha. Baz’s mother.

In my daze I’d completely forgotten about the Visitings. The Veil should be mostly closed by now; Natasha must have gotten delayed somewhere along the way.

She looks at where I’m sitting and then looks back at me, confused. “Basilton.”

My chest tightens. “I know,” I choke. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s that man,” she says, face filling with rage. “He’s responsible for everything. For me, and for my son.”

“What?” I ask. “Who are you talking about?”

“Him. Davy.”

I have no idea who she’s talking about, and it must show on my face.

“The false headmaster running my school,” she spits.

If I had eaten anything within the past twelve hours, it would have come back up now.

“No,” I whisper. “No, the Mage, he’s –”

But even as I deny it, I feel dread start to course through my entire body. I think about how Penny said he’s been absent, about how the Mage treated the Grimms, about how he’s convinced that they’re our enemies –

I put on the brakes before I start spiraling, trying to focus again on Natasha, who’s starting to fade away. She looks at me with pleading eyes.

“Please, do something. For my son.”

I swallow back all the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “Anything. I’d do anything for him.”

She smiles, and then she’s gone.

BAZ

“Hey. Hey, you alright, mate?”

Someone’s voice is bleeding through my consciousness, as if coming from far away. But when I blink my eyes a few times, the disoriented face that starts to come into focus is right in front of mine.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re awake. Look, you’re pretty banged up. We’re gonna get you some help.”

My hands are no longer bound, and I use them to clutch at my head. It feels as though someone’s had a go at it with a metal bat a couple hundred times. The man who had spoken looks at me in concern.

“Take it easy there. What happened to you?”

Amongst the swimming mess that is my brain I manage to remember the Mage. The yelling. The bashing.

_Simon._

I shoot up in a panic and almost keel right back over, but the man steadies me. I jolt away from his touch and fall back against the wall. “Who – What—”

“It’s okay,” the man says, hands up like he’s trying not to spook a frightened animal. “We were just taking a stroll not too far from here and heard the shoutin’. Came over to see what was the matter.”

For a moment I wonder if I haven’t noticed anyone else in the room given my addled state, but then a dog trots in and answers the question of his “we.” It takes another second to register his accent.

“Where are we?” I get out – a full sentence this time. “Is this Wales?”

The man looks rightly baffled. “Yes, but –” I shove past him before he can finish.

The room I was being held in opens up into a larger living space. I stumble through it and out the front door of what turns out to be a small cottage. There’s nothing around but grass as far as I can see in every direction.

I whirl around, looking for roads, civilization – anything. All it manages to do is make me feel sick. I haven’t eaten in days, though, and the only thing that rises up my throat is an overwhelming sense of hysteria. I have to get back to Watford. I have to get to Simon before the Mage does.

The stranger from before comes barreling out of the house. “Mate, you should slow down,” he says. “You look right awful. Here, I’ll call an ambulance.”

He pulls a phone out of his pocket and I lunge for it, swiping it right out of his hands.

“Hey!” he shouts. “What do you think you’re –”

In what is arguably my lowest moment (arguably relative to all the shit I put Simon through over the years, stairs incident included), I bare my fangs at him and hiss. I can’t even imagine how I must look. Deranged, no doubt. Like some sort of bloodthirsty monster.

Regardless, it has the intended effect. He backs off, scrambling to get his dog’s leash and get the hell out of there. It makes me feel a twinge of guilt; he was only trying to help, after all. But right now, Simon takes top priority. Always has.

Frantically, I dial for a cab and hope that I can get to him in time.

SIMON

The sun is barely coming over the horizon as I stride over to the Weeping Tower.

Nothing makes sense anymore. Granted, nothing has made sense since I lost Baz, but this is on a whole other level. My confusion is palpable, and I can feel it beginning to pour off me in waves of magic, but I try to keep a tamper on it until I can _do_ something.

That’s what I’m good at. Acting, not thinking. The thinking is what I have Penny for. What I had Baz for.

I want the Mage to deny everything. To say it’s not true.

I don’t know if I can handle it if it’s true.

But as I burst into the Mage’s office in a rage, ready to demand an explanation, I realize there’s nobody here.

Figures. Even if this wasn’t an odd hour, he’s never around lately.

I scan the room, desperate to find something. Or not find something. Sure, I want answers – but should I really be hoping for something if it could implicate the Mage?

The question’s decided for me when my eyes fall to an open book sitting on the desk. There are diagrams of fire-breathing beasts, the pages filled with script old and new, detailing facts. Warnings.

Incantations.

The words to summon a dragon stare me in the face as I look on uncomprehendingly.

“Hey!” I hear a shout. One of the Mage’s Men is standing in the doorway. “You can’t be in here while the Mage is away.”

He starts to go blurry around the edges. Or maybe that’s me.

“Sorry, Simon, but you know the rules. If you need something, you can talk to him later. He should be back any minute now –”

As if on cue, I see the Mage coming through the front gate outside of the office window.

And that’s when it all crashes down around me.

PENNY

I feel it before anything else.

It’s like a jolt through my body that gets me shooting out of bed, and I’d recognize it anywhere. Simon’s magic is always a shock to the system, and not in a good way.

I’m halfway out the Cloisters before I’m even fully awake. There’s a mass of people huddling on the Great Lawn providing the distant noise of a commotion. As I get closer to the overlapping voices, I realize that Simon’s is the loudest of them all.

“You killed him!” he screams. “_You killed him!_”

I push through the crowd of what is mostly Mage’s Men until I get to the center of it all. A few of them are holding back Simon as he strains against their grip, trying to get at the Mage who stands dumbfounded a good few feet away. There are tears streaming down Simon’s cheeks, and he’s unhinged in a way I’ve never seen him before.

“_Bastard!_” he cries. “You brought that dragon here on purpose. You did this!”

_Oh no_. I feel my stomach sink beneath my shoes.

The Mage takes a step back, putting his hands up. “Now, Simon,” he says. He actually seems nervous, and he’s doing a piss poor job of hiding it. “If you’ll calm down, we’ll talk this through like rational –”

“There’s nothing to talk about! He’s_ gone_. He’s gone and it’s _your fault_!” I don’t think anything is actually getting through to Simon anymore. He’s made of heartbreak. There’s so much magic coming off him that’s it’s making people disoriented, and it finally allows Simon to break free.

The Men move to restrain him again but I step in front of them, ring pointed in their direction. “Don’t,” I say, voice low.

Simon mutters the pledge for the sword of mages, and it’s hardly formed in his hand before he’s swinging it at the Mage. He barely has time to draw his own sword and block Simon’s blow, stopping it inches from his face.

“Look at yourself, Simon!” the Mage spits, now filled with a rage of his own. “You’re better than this. How can you let yourself get so worked up over a _monster_?”

Simon lets out an inhuman noise and strikes again, but his attack is unfocused. The Mage deflects his blade easily.

“The Pitch boy was hardly worth my time,” he says, gaining confidence. “He was only ever in the way.”

But what Simon lacks in focus, he makes up in intensity. He comes at the Mage over and over, overwhelming him with sheer force of will and turning the air into a haze of red.

At this point the Mage’s Men finally decide to step in. I keep my ring pointed at the ones in my line of sight and yell **_Back off_**, sending them flying backwards. I suppose that’s the cue for all hell to break loose.

People that I didn’t even know were there start forming a ring around Simon, holding off the Mage’s Men. Dev stands a few feet away from me, deadly serious and casting fire spells. Niall is causing distractions left and right while he clenches his teeth to ward back tears. Even Agatha stands at the edge of the fray, throwing up barriers around me and the others. It’s as if someone cast a **_Helter Skelter_** around the Great Lawn, there’s so much happening at once.

I’ve just perfectly executed **_The lady’s not for turning_** when I almost stumble back into Simon. By now he’s got the Mage off balance, and he’s burning so bright it’s like he’s going supernova. It would be a disaster if he went off here; there are so many people, and I doubt he’d be able to protect them all in his current state.

But I don’t know what to do to stop him.

“Let it go, Simon!” I yell. “Take some of the magic and let it go.”

I doubt Simon even registers what I’m saying, but the Mage certainly does.

“Yes, that’s right!” he says. “You’re a broken vessel. You have too much power. But you can share that power, Simon! Give it to me.”

A bolt of fear runs through me. How did he find out?

**“No.”** Simon’s voice is raw, and his words are soaked in magic. I can tell he’s had enough. **“I don’t want you here. _Go away_.”**

And just like that, the Mage is gone.

SIMON

I do my best to reign in the excess power and when I get there I’m just left tired. Empty.

Alone.

I finally had my chance to _do_. To act. But I didn’t really do anything.

The Mage may be gone, but so is Baz.

I’m just about ready to collapse into a pile of nothing, and I must look it too, because Penny moves to stabilize me. But then something catches her attention over my shoulder and she goes ramrod straight, eyes going wider than I’ve ever seen them. I turn around as well as I can manage. There’s a figure coming over the hill, and…

It can’t be.

BAZ

I was so afraid I was too late. There were sounds of yelling, and fighting, and I could feel his magic tugging at something deep within me. But there was no need to worry.

Because there’s Simon. Beautiful and powerful and _alive, alive, alive_. Looking at me like I’m his most impossible dream made manifest.

“Baz?” he whispers, breathless.

I give him a grin, which must look pathetic in my sorry state. But it sets off something in him and he starts running, and not even my broken body can keep me from rushing to meet him.

He plows into me like I’m unpredictably solid, like he expected he‘d go right though me. His hands scramble to find purchase, clutching at my shirt like a lifeline. He immediately starts weeping into my shoulder.

_It’s Simon,_ I think, dazed. _Simon, Simon, Simon_.

“Simon,” I breathe into his curls.

Words are pouring out of him in an incomprehensible stream and they’re impossible to make out at first, but when I do it breaks my heart. “Real?” he’s saying. “You’re real? This is real?”

“Yes, love,” I assure him. “It’s me, I’m here.”

Simon pulls back in a flurry all of a sudden, desperate, I think, to see my face. He looks somewhat ghastly himself – eyes with dark circles and red rims, his body thin in a way I haven’t seen it since the last time he came back from a care home. But his expression screams of a relief so profound you’d think he just found the end to all his suffering.

“_Baz_,” he says, putting all of that emotion into a single word, and then wastes no further time in crushing my mouth to his.

And it is this, this that kept me from going under in the darkest parts of my capture, this that drew life from the deepest well of my body and kept me from fading away. Simon kisses me and he makes it all worth it. All that matters is that I’m finally with him again.

His lips kiss mine over and over like he’ll never have enough, but I can feel the steady tears slipping down his cheeks. So I kiss him back firmly once more before I draw back and wipe them away gently with my thumbs.

Simon’s blue eyes are bright from tears. They crinkle at the edges when he lets out a laugh in disbelief, running his hands over my face as if really and truly confirming that I’m there. My lips form a smile in a way that only he can make them do.

But something’s…

I notice a glimpse of movement behind Simon. Just one person, from the Mage’s Men, looking incensed and out for retribution. He’s got his wand pointed at Simon and he’s already pushing words out his mouth. **_“Cuts like a knife!”_**

I don’t think.

I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder before I even realize I’ve turned us around. Simon, now facing the opposite direction, looks stricken with horror as I collapse into him, unable to hold myself up anymore.

From there, it gets a little difficult to concentrate. I’ve been running on empty since before I left Wales and I don’t have much left in me to deal with this. Agony shoots through my body from where the spell landed. Someone lowers me to the ground.

Briefly, I can see the sky.

Then there’s Simon, and Bunce. She’s speaking frantically to Simon, but he’s lost, glowing with a golden power that I felt earlier. The warmth in his eyes has vanished.

I wish the world would stop causing him pain.

Though I try to reach for him, I find myself sinking into the familiar dark of unconsciousness.

PENNY

There’s no time to process all this. For the second time in minutes, I have to take on the impossible task of talking Simon down from the edge. But if I thought it was bad before… Simon looks like he’s going to kill the man.

“Simon, please!” I plead, panic creeping into my voice. I’m trying to stem the blood seeping from Baz’s shoulder, but I can’t do this alone. There are too many people that need saving. “He’s not worth it!”

I might as well be talking to an all-powerful god, unforgiving and unreachable. It certainly feels that way.

He’s about to lash out, so I pull out all the stops. “Baz needs you! He’s more important right now.”

Simon halts mid-motion. I’m not sure he fully understands yet, but then he glances down. Baz is weakly gripping at his sleeve, fingers spasming before falling away. Simon catches his hand before it hits the ground, and that’s when I know I can get through to him.

“Heal him, Simon,” I say. “You can do it. He responds to your magic. Concentrate.”

He looks at their joined hands for a moment before he moves me out of the way. His other hand goes to cover the wound on Baz’s shoulder. Simon takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

A golden light spills from his fingers. It’s blinding, and yet gentle. I watch in awe as the bleeding stops and the skin miraculously repairs itself. But it doesn’t stop there.

Baz was in a horrid state when he arrived, but that’s starting to wash away under the touch of Simon’s magic. His bruises vanish. The rope burns on his wrists heal. His skin reverts back to a healthy color.

It’s an amazing display of power. It’s Simon more in control than he’s ever been.

When it’s over, Simon leans forward and presses his head to Baz’s chest. He must hear the steady sound of a heartbeat, because he starts shaking in relief, gathering Baz up and holding him in his arms.

I hazard a glance at the wreckage around us. There are smoking craters all over the Great Lawn, and people either unconscious or detained or gaping at us in shock. It’s all a lot to take in.

But for the first time, I think we’ll be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

BAZ

Soft. It’s the first thing I register as I slowly drift back into awareness. My fingers grasp soft sheets, and my head rests against a soft pillow. It’s far from the hard lines and edges of the wooden chair I’ve been bound to for a month.

And there’s something else. An instant comfort that sets my mind straight at ease. My head turns, causing my nose to brush soft curls, and I know the reason why.

Simon is plastered to my side, arms clutching my waist and face pressed against my neck. We’re in our room in Mummer’s house, the both of us sleeping in my bed. There’s not much space, but I doubt that’s why Simon’s pressed so close.

The thought makes my chest ache and I long for him to remedy it, so I push myself up slightly on one arm and give him a gentle shake. “Simon. Simon, wake up.”

It takes a second, eyes struggling to open as he is pried from the depths of sleep. But then they focus and land on me, and he lets out a shaky breath. “Baz?” he asks. A question. A whisper.

I give him a sad smile. “Here.”

He lifts trembling fingers to my face, letting them trace over my features. I watch his disbelief, a palpable thing, settle into something more akin to awe. He strokes along my eyebrows, down my cheekbones. My eyes drift closed and he brushes his fingertips across my eyelids, then my lips.

It is silent, but there is so much being said. I let him take the time to relearn me, to reassure himself.

After a while he buries his face in my chest and shudders, overwhelmed. “I thought you were dead,” he says, voice cracking. “We all thought you were dead.”

“I know,” I respond. “He told me.”

Simon stiffens. “_Who_ told you?”

I’m reluctant to answer, but my silence must tell him all he needs to know.

He grips my shirt tighter. “I can’t believe I ever thought…”

I can see where this is going, so I pull back and grab his face with my hands. “No. You cannot blame yourself for him. I won’t allow it.”

He tries at a smile. “Oh really? Just because you said so?”

“Just because I said so.”

Simon’s expression breaks a little. “Okay. You know I’d do anything for you, Baz.”

The ache inside me grows tenfold. I’m helpless, can do nothing but stroke his cheeks and hold him.

“Simon Snow, I’d do the impossible for you.”

And that, too. Anything he wants, I can do.

It turns out I’ve been asleep for a full day. Physically there’s nothing left wrong with me, thanks to Simon, but my body was so exhausted it just shut down for some much-needed rest. At any rate, I feel loads better than I have at any point during the last month.

Eventually Penelope comes to check in on us. When she sees I’m awake, suddenly everyone is there. Father, Daphne, and Mordelia all burst into the room, having been notified that their son was not in fact dead. I’m sure the younger ones have been left at home under the watchful eye of Vera. Mordelia berates me through her tears, Daphne strokes my hair, and even my father can’t stop himself from coming up and giving me a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, Basilton,” he says, misty eyed. I’m a bit shocked, to say the least.

Throughout it all Simon remains a fixture at my side. His arms are wrapped around my waist and his face is pressed into my shoulder, unmoving despite the commotion.

Professor Bunce is here as well. She listens intently as I detail everything for her: the dragon, my captivity, my admittedly dramatic return. Penelope fills in all the bits I wasn’t there for.

I’m not sure how I feel about the Mage vanishing into thin air. I suppose as long as he’s not around to hurt Simon it’s good enough for now.

“I am sincerely sorry for what happened to you, Mr. Pitch,” Professor Bunce says, “and unfortunately there’s no way to put the Mage on trial at the moment for what he’s done. Until we figure out the extent of what’s happened, we’ll have to appoint a temporary headmaster.”

She sighs and rubs at her forehead. I pity her; this would be a lot to handle even without the crazy political situation. I’ll bet she’s happy to see the Mage unseated from power (as am I), but it happened in the least conventional and messiest way possible.

Professor Bunce turns her focus back towards me. “For now, I believe you should get some medical attention. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. I can take you to visit Dr. Wellbelove.”

She reaches for me as if to help escort me outside, but Simon raises his head slightly and lets out a low growl. His eyes glare at her with an intensity that startles her and everyone else in the room.

At the point where he grips my shirt, I can feel his hands shaking.

I bring up my hand and start to smooth it through his hair. “I appreciate the sentiment, Professor,” I say, “but I’m fine. Simon healed everything that was wrong with me.”

Professor Bunce breaks out of her surprise. “If you’re sure,” she says, eyeing Simon. Then she turns to my father. “Malcolm, I’d like to discuss convening an emergency Coven meeting.”

“Of course.” He follows Professor Bunce out of our room, squeezing my shoulder on his way out.

When the door closes there’s no one left in the room but Simon, Penelope, and I. Penelope meets my eyes and we come to a moment of understanding before she stands up as well.

“I’ll go get Agatha. She’ll want to know you’re awake.” As she walks out the door she stops to turn around. “It’s good to have you back, Baz.”

My hand is still running through Simon’s curls. “Simon,” I address him now that we’re alone. “’Simon.”

He won’t look at me.

“It’s alright. I’m not going to go anywhere.”

He peeks an eye up at me.

“You don’t have to worry about me leaving you. I’ll let you stick to me like a leech if that’s what you’d like.”

He huffs out a small laugh at that. “I can’t help but think,” he whispers, “that you’ll be gone again the second I take my eyes off you. For real, this time.”

He moves his hand to my wrist, fingers resting on my pulse point. It’s what he does to remind me that I’m alive, only this time I think he’s reminding himself.

I can’t even imagine what this must have been like for him. If our situations had been reversed…

Well.

The Mage certainly wouldn’t still be here for us to worry about. I doubt I would be either.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say, in the face of everything.

Simon creases his eyebrows. “What for? None of this was your fault, Baz.”

“It could have been better.” I can hear the guilt bleeding through my voice. “If I had talked, the Mage said he would have let you know I was alive.”

He brings his head up from my shoulder and presses harshly against my forehead. “No,” he says. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. He lied to you, Baz. To all of us. Don’t feel bad about this.”

I can only gaze at him helplessly, his blue eyes glowing with emotion.

“_Please_,” he begs. “You’ve been hurt enough, Baz. Don’t do it to yourself.”

“Only if you won’t do the same,” I say, leaving no room for argument. “Deal?”

He looks at war with himself. I can tell Simon thinks he’s failed, that he’s the hero and he should be the one to protect everyone he loves. I’ll be damned if I let him keep thinking like that.

I lean in and kiss him, lingering softly for a moment before I pull back. “Don’t punish yourself, Simon Snow. It’ll only hurt me more.”

His face crumples and he yanks me forward as if to kiss me again, but the door opens. We both turn to see Penelope with Agatha, bag in hand.

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d miss,” she smiles. Her shining blonde hair does nothing to hide the dark circles under her eyes. “Didn’t waste any time getting right back to it, did you Baz?”

“Oh, you know me, Wellbelove. Never one to turn down being the center of attention.”

She rolls her eyes at me but doesn’t stop grinning. “Too bad for you, I’m about to make it about me. I just came to see how you were doing before I say goodbye.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” Her normally angelic face goes a bit haggard. “The world of mages has gone tits up, and it’s all got a bit too crazy for me. I figure it’s about time to take my own fresh start as well.”

“Where are you going?” Penelope asks. She looks just as shocked so I’m guessing she didn’t know about this either.

“California,” she laughs. “It’s about as far as I could get.”

Part of me is furious that she gets to take off while we have to deal with the aftermath of all this, but another part of me understands where she’s coming from. How many times have I wished before that I could just take Simon and hide away from everything?

“Good luck out there, Wellbelove,” I say. I hope it’s enough.

Agatha walks over to give me a quick hug around Simon. “Take care of him,” she whispers into my ear.

It’s then I realize she must have stuck around to help hold Simon together. I never thought in a million years I’d be grateful to Agatha Wellbelove, but here we are.

I nod to her, and with that she turns around in a flash of golden hair and leaves.

PENNY

It’s hard to believe we’re here.

I look at Baz, sitting on his bed with Simon in his arms, and think about how impossible this would have all seemed even a day ago. I would’ve thought we were in one of those fantasies Simon dreamed up to keep Baz alive.

But we are here, and I couldn’t be more glad for it, despite the fallout. Sure, the political world for the mages is in a bit of a mess. In all honesty, though, it’s a relief to see the Mage out of power. At the rate he was going, he would have run all of the Old Families out of their homes by the end of the year, not to mention whatever he would have planned to put Simon through.

It’s bad enough what he’s already put Simon through. Simon hasn’t detached from Baz’s side at all in the last 48 hours, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon. His anxiety at being separated keeps him fixated on watching Baz.

Baz seems to be taking it all rather well, considering everything. Although I suppose that could be his posh exterior coming out at the need to keep things hidden. He’s never been any good at hiding from Simon, though (not since they started dating, anyway), and Simon is all he cares about. Even though he’s clearly been dealt some trauma, Baz is entirely focused on making sure Simon’s alright.

It’s why I accepted him into our lives so easily, and why I’m so glad he’s back in our lives now.

SIMON

Eventually everyone leaves our room and lets us be alone again. The comforting scent of Baz and his hand stroking through my hair quickly puts me to sleep, but it seems like I’m waking up in a cold sweat in no time at all. My chest heaves, tight with panic at the gripping feeling that Baz is dead and I only dreamed that he came back to me.

“Baz?” I cry, groping frantically around the mattress. My hand hits something solid and someone grabs my face, gently turning me until I’m staring at Baz.

“Here,” he says.

I feel the last vestiges of my grip slip away before I can do anything to stop it. Tears start streaming down my face and I can’t control the sobs clawing their way up my throat. Pained, Baz pulls me into his chest, pressing his face into my hair. He rubs my back as I fall apart.

It kills me to make him be the one that has to comfort me. Here he is, having been kidnapped and tormented for a month, and it’s me that’s losing it.

But I can’t help it. I feel like I’ll drift away if he doesn’t reassure me.

“Stay,” I choke out, but the word is mangled. “Stay, stay, stay.”

Something wet drips into my hair. “I promise,” he whispers. “I promise.”

It’s one thing for me to be crying (I have enough recently), but I can’t have Baz be sad. I can’t have that.

So I lift my head and kiss him soundly. He falls into it at once, and it feels like breathing, how easy it is. We know this. Know each other. Know each other’s lips and skin and sighs and how to get closer even when it feels like we can’t anymore.

Because that’s all I want. To be closer. To be so close that he’s entwined with me, never to leave me, never to live with the agony of being without him.

I feel like he wants that too. I feel it in the way he breathes into my mouth, in the way his tongue meets mine. Feel it in his arms as he pulls me into his lap. In his hands as he runs them over the skin of my back.

We scramble at each other, trying to cover every inch. I bury my hands deep in his silky black hair, pulling back at it while I push him towards me. He tugs at my lips with his teeth, not once letting us separate. As if I would.

Soon I bring him down to my neck so he’ll start leaving marks there. I’ve always loved it when he’s marked me, but now it’s something I want more than ever – the physical reminder of his presence. These dark patches on my skin will tell me Baz is alive and well when I doubt myself, doubt reality.

Baz has no qualms about doing it for me. The way he inhales, it makes me think that this was premeditated, something he thought about while he was gone. His mouth on my skin.

It makes my eyes roll back, and my grip on him grow tighter.

BAZ

Simon’s yanking so hard on my hair that it’s starting to hurt but I’m reveling in it. This is exactly what I needed – him, and his skin, and all the time alone the universe will give us.

I think it’s well deserved. The universe hasn’t been kind to us lately; it owes us one.

Our tears have stopped, but the tracks still remain. I take my tongue and run it over the trails on his cheeks. It may sound a bit disturbed, but it’s us. It’s the surest way I know to say I love you.

SIMON

He loves me. He loves me. He’s here, and he loves me.

BAZ

“_I love you_,” Simon gasps over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” It becomes more sound than sentence but never loses its meaning.

“You’re everything, Simon,” I press into his skin. “_Everything_.”

And for the moment, that’s all that matters.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one! Thank you all so much for coming along for the ride.

PENNY

It’s been about a week since everything happened, and life has more or less gone on like normal.

The major difference is my mother. Because of the vacancy for Watford headmaster, the Coven appointed her to the position with little to no fuss. Already she’s making some changes – we’re allowed phones, for a start, and the library has become much more crowded with additions that the Mage had seen fit to remove years ago. I couldn’t be any happier with the decision, really.

The students have taken it all in stride, in true English fashion. There was a hurrah for Baz the first time he reentered the dining hall but since then it’s been business as usual.

Now it’s as if Baz were never gone. He’s got his arm around Simon’s shoulders and every once in a while he’ll stop to wipe crumbs from the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

But we know it happened. It’s evident in the way Simon keeps a tight grip on Baz’s side. It’s evident in the bags under both their eyes. It’s evident in the empty space at our table where Agatha once sat.

Even the fact that Simon’s eating again is new. When Baz found out that Simon had hardly touched scones in a month, he looked like someone had run him through with a stake. He’d taken Simon’s hand and marched him down to the kitchen, and that had been the end of that.

“What about week eight?” Baz says. He’s scribbling notes with the hand that isn’t around Simon.

“We covered 16th century colloquial phrases,” I tell him.

“Oh, good. Nothing I don’t already know then.”

Baz has been a menace in his attempt to catch up with classwork. I’d be frightened if it wasn’t so impressive.

Simon looks at his notebook with detached interest as he quietly nibbles on a scone. He doesn’t talk much, these days. It worries me but not nearly as much as it did when he was grieving.

He wouldn’t be able to contribute much to this conversation, anyway. Simon’s never been one for schoolwork, and after everything that happened he’s more behind than Baz is.

We’re almost back to what I would consider peaceful.

“Someone get a teacher!” some first year screams, slamming open the double doors.

I sigh. Guess not, then.

BAZ

Immediately I shoot out of my chair to see what’s going on but something holds me back. It’s Simon; he’s got a death grip on my sleeve, and his blue eyes are full of unspoken panic. I feel a hairline fracture form on my heart, yet another added to the collection I’ve garnered over the last week or so.

I gently cover his fingers with my own. “Simon, let’s go.” He doesn’t budge. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He looks reluctant, but lets me pull him up from his seat. Penelope has already gone ahead of us; in fact, we’re one of the last ones still in the dining hall.

We walk outside hand and hand, making our way to the front of the crowd that’s formed by the front gate. When Penelope turns around and fixes us with a grim look, I know it can’t be anything good.

I almost go to cover Simon’s eyes when I see what it is and just barely stop myself. What I _do_ manage is to tighten my grip on Simon’s hand, and it’s a good thing I do because he instantly flips into a rage and tries to launch into an attack.

None other than the Mage sits on his knees outside the gate, clutching at the bars. He looks a right mess, bedraggled with a wild gleam in his eyes. Professor Bunce’s first act as headmaster was to ban him from Watford as a precautionary measure, and it seems to have worked.

“Simon!” he yells when he catches sight of him, reaching his hand out through the bars. “Simon, come let me explain.”

I’m full on restraining Simon now. “There’s nothing to explain,” he spits. “How are you even here? I thought I sent you away.”

“You did, Simon, and what an incredible feat of power.” He sounds in awe. “I ended up somewhere halfway across America. Took me ages to find civilization and get a plane ticket over here.”

“You shouldn’t have come back,” I say. “You’re not wanted here.”

His expression instantly forms to one of distaste when his eyes land on me. “It’s _because_ of people like you, Mr. Pitch, that I had to come back. Pity you didn’t die in that cottage.”

This time it takes both me and Penelope to hold Simon back. He’s so mad he’s got tears in his eyes.

“You hateful bastard!” he screams. “Let me go,” he says to us, fighting our grip.

“He’s not worth it,” Penelope says, struggling against his strength.

Quickly I press my face against his curls. “Don’t give into him,” I whisper into his ear. “He’s taken enough from us.”

Simon stops, turning to look at me. We have a silent conversation, his eyes saying _but can’t I at least hit him?_ and mine saying _I know, want to too, but he can’t get to us anymore. Don’t give him the chance._

I feel the fight leave his body. “Alright,” he whispers back.

It’s then that Professor Bunce finally arrives on the scene. She looks nearly ready to kill the Mage herself.

“I’d hoped you would have the sense to stay away from here,” she sighs. Then she raises her wand. “But it’s just as well. Now I can officially put you under arrest.”

The Mage tries to stand but Professor Bunce spells a quick **_Stand your ground_** at him. He looks outraged. “You don’t have the authority to do that,” he snarls.

She grins. “As headmaster, I can bring you to questioning before the Coven. And I think they’ll agree with what me and _my_ students have to say.”

I have to admit, it’s rather enjoyable watching the Mage squirm and not being able to do a damn thing about it. I think Simon enjoys it too, as he has a genuine smile on his face.

It’s a good sight to see.

SIMON

The adults seem to have everything handled, and most of the crowd has dispersed. We turn to leave ourselves, but I’m stopped by the Mage’s voice.

“I can’t believe you let it come to this over a _boy_.”

He says it with so much loathing. _A boy_. He could have just as easily said a villain. A vampire.

But Baz is more than those things. And he’s not just any boy.

I turn around.

“No,” I say. “It just took a boy to show me who you really are.”

Baz gives my hand a tight squeeze.

When the Mage is shoved into a car and carted away for good, he wraps me up in his arms. “It’s over,” he breathes. “It’s over.”

It’s not over. There’s still the Families to deal with. There’s still the Humdrum to oppose. There’s still the ever-present fear in my head that Baz could be taken away from me at any given moment.

I don’t think that will go away anytime soon. If ever.

But we’ve won something today, so I let my arms come around him in return.

I take in his cedar and bergamot smell. “So what d’you suggest we do now, then?”

Baz pretends to ponder for a moment, then lets a wicked grin take over his face. “If I remember correctly, I think I owe you something.”

And wow, that takes me back. Back to before all this, back to when I woke up with a beautiful boy in my arms, unaware the world would take him away from me that day.

“I think you’re right,” I smile. “You can start with this.”

I take him by the neck, and life slots into place again.


End file.
